


Three For Three

by Val_Creative



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Amnesia, Amnesiac Vanya Hargreeves, Episode Related, Episode: s02e06 A Light Supper, F/F, F/M, Family, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Humor, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Incest, Memory Loss, Mild Language, Protective Allison Hargreeves, Protective Klaus Hargreeves, Recovered Memories, Season/Series 02, Smoking, Teasing, Vanya Hargreeves Needs A Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:09:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25772617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: Vanya started to doubt anyone was looking for her. But they were.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Klaus Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Allison Hargreeves/Klaus Hargreeves/Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 14
Kudos: 104
Collections: The umbrella academy





	Three For Three

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE ENJOY THIS. I'M IN LOVE WITH THIS SCENE WITH THE THREE OF THEM IN THE BEAUTY PARLOR. I DECIDED TO ALTER SOME THINGS AND ADD MORE. ANY THOUGHTS/COMMENTS APPRECIATED. 🥰🥰🥰

*

Vanya started to doubt anyone was looking for her.

But they were.

Her brothers and her sister — two of them, Klaus and Allison, twine hands and swing each other lightly around the center of the Ladies' Beauty Parlor. Everything smells like gin. The inside of Vanya's mouth tastes like Christmas but not in the _fun_ way.

She's giddy. Bouncing on her tiptoes to the old-fashioned radio. Closing her eyes and wiggling her upper body to the beat while Allison sings along. Happiness soars in her chest, and Vanya wishes she could _remember_ Klaus and Allison. They remember her. They speak lowly, affectionately to her, like Vanya is important. Like she's precious and vulnerable and wonderful.

Klaus giggle-snorts, hugging his arms loosely to Vanya's neck and smushing their cheeks together. "Love ya, Vanny."

"Yeah, love you, too," Vanya says, smiling nervously and untangling herself from him.

They must have been close. All of them.

(Or does Klaus get like this with _everyone_ while drunker than a stunk?)

Vanya sways a little on her feet, flopping into a padded, light blue salon's chair. Okay. She's not much better. Allison rolls aside the metal equipment cleaner for the backwash units. The other woman seems more clear-headed. Steadier in her tipsiness.

Klaus whistles, long and low, pawing through the hairbrushes and combs on a table.

"Now about you and Luther…"

Allison winces.

"Don't start," she says, mopping up Klaus's gigantic spill of his bourbon with her heel. Allison has removed her shoes like Klaus.

"What!?" Klaus half-whines, half-yells. "It's not like we all didn't know… _yeesh_ …"

"I'm _married_ , Klaus."

Vanya glances between them curiously, sipping from Klaus's bourbon. The rim tastes like artificial honey.

"And you're still making googly eyes at Luther," Klaus points out, giving Allison an overly smug look. He motions with his lit cigarette. That's when an amused Allison softly slaps him upside the head, grumbling and passing him for a beauty trolley.

_"Ow…"_

"Isn't Luther our brother?" Vanya says contemplatively. She tilts her head.

Klaus hums, joining her by the salon's chair. His fingers, not holding the cigarette, rake deep into her brown strands. He pets Vanya like she's a funny, favorite doll. " _Technically_ …" Klaus murmurs, widening his eyes and looking to the top of Vanya's head.

" _Technically_ ," Allison repeats, " _Technically_ you led the conversation with speculating if Five was gonna grow up hot."

He yanks out a metallic clip, pinning back Vanya's hair.

"Wooo!" Klaus cackles, rubbing his hands gleefully. "Hotter than a fried egg on my ass!"

Allison rolls her eyes in the mirror's reflection and Vanya finds herself laughing along with both of them. Even if she doesn't completely understand what's going on. She wishes she did. Klaus whirls Vanya in the chair for a moment, letting her get up.

"Look, I'm not being a hypocrite," Klaus announces, holding his cigarette out like a peace offering. His voice mumbly-slurring. Allison's lips curl up. She wanders to him, plucking Klaus's cigarette and inhaling. A trickle of pale smoke leaks between Allison's pinkish-brown lips. Vanya's mind feels like it's wandering too. "I'm not judging. I'm a non-judgey kind of person. _Watch_ —"

Klaus turns to Vanya, grasping her face and smacking his lips exaggeratedly to hers.

For a minute, a whole minute, Vanya forgets to breathe. She registers the quick, scratchy kiss with Klaus's facial hair. A hint of ash on his skin. His mouth chapped. Klaus's hands drop away, but the echo of heat lingers in Vanya's senses.

"Klaus, oh my god—" Allison exhales, shaking her head incredulously. She pinches out the cigarette.

He titters, beckoning her and spreading open his arms. His dark shirt flaps open. Klaus leans in when Allison welcomes the hug. Their grinning lips touch chastely. " _Oh_ ~" Klaus rumbles. "Did they invent lip gloss in the 60s 'cause you taste _yummy_ ~~" He plants little, loud kisses to Allison's face as she dissolves into full-bodied laughter. Muffled out against Klaus's shoulder.

"Is this really necessary?"

Allison's voice melds into the background noise. A nearby fan cranked on HIGH, its blades sputtering. One of the sink's faucets drips intermittently. Vanya's blood slows, stills, then heightens the pounding in her ears. Louder, and louder. More intensely.

She starts vibrating. Overheated. Lightheaded. Vanya can feel the powerful tremors down to her cells.

She—

_—cuts the air with her glimmering, energy-charged violin bow—Allison, eyes bulging, clutches at her own bleeding throat—_

She—

_—lifts Pogo high above an ornate rug—tosses him like he's nothing until his body spears onto old, mounted antlers—_

She—

_—drains the life out of them without hesitation—her family, her past and her pain—no longer aware of herself_ _—who_ _—who is she—_

Klaus glances to the inventory papers fluttering on the reception desk, going quiet.

Wind whips around them. Allison's hair blows gently across her face. It ripples furiously.

The wooden magazine racks creak, straining under invisible weight.

"Vanya," Allison cries out. "Vanya, hey!"

There's no response. Klaus clenches onto Vanya's wrist, trying to get her attention while Vanya zones out. Her features vacant. Within her own mind space, and memories, Vanya screams herself raw. Hyperventilating. Sobbing and clawing herself.

"Can she hear us?"

Allison's mouth thins into a severe line.

"Van…" she murmurs, coming around to Klaus's other side and facing Vanya. "Focus on my voice… focus on me. I'm right here." The tinny of vibrations wanes. Vanya's body slacks, as the wind calms and dies. "You're not alone. Not anymore."

Klaus stares worriedly to Allison who nods firmly to him.

"Take a deep breath."

The three of them inhale at the same time, and Vanya releases hers in a close-mouthed and high-pitched whimper. She sinks to her knees, blacking out, with Klaus's right hand hooking under one of her arms and Allison gripping tightly around Vanya.

"Shit," Allison murmurs, cupping the side of Vanya's head to her front. "Oh shit."

Vanya stirs.

"Thanks, Allison," Klaus mock-sighs, clapping her leg. "I really needed that."

The other woman lets out a tense laugh. Allison startles for a minute when Vanya's fingers sluggishly reach up, dragging over Allison's neck. Locating the deep, rigid scarring. "Vanya," she whispers comfortingly, helping her go upright.

_"I… I didn't mean to…"_

Vanya, sweating copiously through her clothes and dazed, gawks.

She suddenly chokes on tears. Vanya doesn't know why. Doesn't know _why_ but she's frightened and ashamed and livid. All of these emotions vying to claim her. And none of them make a home. Vanya doesn't know if there's anywhere she belongs now.

"Vanya, look at me," Allison insists. "Whatever you think you did… whatever you remember… it _wasn't_ your fault."

Klaus makes a so-so face. He opens his mouth but decides against his usual chaotic impulses when face-to-face with Allison's glare. "She's right, yeah," Klaus says instead, tsking and petting into Vanya's brown hair again. "Definitely."

Vanya sniffles. She knows she must look exhausted and pathetic and disgusting with snot running under her nose but Allison's expression softens with a smile. Allison cradles Vanya's face, pressing a short, soothing kiss between her eyebrows. On the tip of Vanya's nose. On her lips. Vanya's sure she wasn't thinking about it, but her heart skips a beat.

They remain where they are, kneeling together, gazing into each other's eyes with an odd magnetism. Vanya's lashes damp.

"Three for three, huh," Klaus remarks. Allison's face tightens.

He gets punched in the shoulder and wheeze-laughs.

*

Once she feels well enough to drive, Vanya heads to the station wagon and back to the Cooper farm.

_Three for three._

Klaus's words loom in her head. Vanya unplugs the bathwater, rinsing the soap suds off and toweling her feet. What was that? Why would he say that? What was she remembering and why did it hurt so badly? Vanya only has the fuzzy remnants.

_Blood gushing between lovely, dark fingers… a set of antlers…_

_Herself clutching a pale-white violin…_

Vanya knows what Sissy told her about the day that Vanya ran out into the street. She wore a pale suit. She had no one.

Out from the windows, there's a dried-out pond full of high, prickly grass. Vanya stares out to it, nude in the light filtering in. The curtains needed a wash. She plops onto the floor, thudding her head against the bathtub's porcelain edge.

It's not _right_ , is it…

To feel this way… how Vanya feels for who is supposed to be her brother and her sister…

_Technically…_

Vanya's lips tic up.

*


End file.
